


Sense and Sentiment

by kwrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4 + 1 fic, Angst, F/M, Oliver's POV, Post-Break Up, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwrites/pseuds/kwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4 times Oliver realizes he's lost her + the 1 time he realizes she's come back to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense and Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very quickly after watching the Asian promotional trailer for 4x15. It centers around a 4 + 1 trope, based on the human senses. All I can say is I'm sorry, and I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think. It keeps the muse going.

It’s been a week since Felicity handed him back his mother’s ring. 

 

Since she had told him that she loved him, but didn’t know if she trusted him and how could they build a life on that? She needed time alone to figure things out, she had said. 

 

Still high on the adrenaline of finding his son still alive and the fight with Darhk... nothing had seemed real. 

 

Not the press of the metal ring against his palm, or the sight of her gliding away from him in her wheelchair. 

 

It’s an hour later that he realizes all he had managed to say was  _ “Felicity, please…” _

 

Why didn’t he fight harder? 

 

But what could he have done? He was in the wrong here. How could he begrudge her this?

 

He wants to feel more anger towards Samantha, toward himself. But all that he feels is cold.

 

He remembers putting on the suit and going out on the streets of their city. Anything to work off some of the tension that rattled his bones. 

 

When he got home to the empty loft, he was momentarily shocked, before that too, had faded into numbness. 

 

He isn’t sure how to feel at the sight of her things cleared out from their home. How long had he been gone? For her to be able to remove every echo of her presence… 

 

He breaks a single glass against the fireplace before grabbing a shawl and settling in for a long night on the couch.

 

There’s no comfort in their bed, not without her.

 

* * *

 

  1. _**Hearing**_



 

The first time it really hits him, that he’s actually lost her, it’s through the deafening sound of… nothing.

 

The silence of the loft and the silence of the lair. 

 

Everything is still.

 

Because as he finds out, Felicity has left Star City as a whole.

 

It’s like his body had known the score before his mind had caught up.

 

“It’s good for her, Oliver,” John says one day, noticing him staring blankly at the computers in the middle of the lair, “She took the antidote Curtis cooked up and is rehabbing with her mom. You know it’s for the best for her to get out of here for awhile.”

 

He nods, unable to say much more. 

 

The loft had become a prison for him. Memories of their life together surrounded every inch of the walls. Though she had removed the personal touches, it could never erase the knowledge of pushing her back up against one of the columns, or cooking her dinner at the table. 

 

The air still smelled of her, for god’s sake. 

 

But, he had thought, after all of that, he would still have her in the lair. Where this had all started. 

 

But she was gone from there too. 

 

There was no chatter or humorous quirks about the villains in their city. 

 

No code names being thrown about endlessly in his ear. 

 

His ear piece is completely silent.

 

The silence should’ve boosted his attention to his surroundings. He should’ve been more focused, razor sharp. But all he can think about is the silence that overwhelms the buzz of his motorcycle. 

 

“She’ll come back to you, Oliver.”

 

His heart lurches at the thought. “How do you know John? I really screwed this up this time.”

 

Diggle shoots him a knowing look. There’s no denying that, but… “Because she loves you man. You’ve already made it so far and through so much together. You just have to hold on.”

 

He sighs, his hand clutching at her chair. 

 

He’s trying.

 

* * *

 

One night, a week or so later, he gets injured by falling debris in a warehouse in the glades. 

 

It’s not too bad, just a slight sprain in one of his arms. 

 

He’s had worse. Much worse.

 

But when he gets back to the lair, she isn’t there to ask him how he feels or to provide reassurances. 

 

Oliver finds in these weeks, that he hates silence more than he ever thought possible.

 

* * *

 

  1. _**Smell**_



 

A week later, Thea pushes him back into the mayoral office.

 

Apparently, just because his personal life has come to a halt, doesn’t mean his professional life is allowed to. 

 

His ratings have gone down sharply. Between his lack of campaigning, and the mysterious disappearance of Felicity Smoak from the city, people are wary. 

 

So, he’s back in the game. 

 

It’s hard for him to picture a city of people believing in him when he’s lost his own belief, but he hasn’t come this far for nothing. 

 

_ She _ would want him to keep going. Or else all of this… what was it for?

 

So he gets back in the public light. He picks up freshly delivered suits from his assistant and he plasters on the ‘Oliver Queen persona’ that he’s always been so good at.

 

He throws a charity event and shows up for their next debate, with new vigor and determination to make sure this city remains his own. 

 

Everything begins to shift up again. 

 

The ratings are up, his public approval sated by the knowledge that Felicity was rehabbing with her mom and would be back when she was ready.

 

His own belief in himself begins to steadily rise a little bit more. 

 

Then he smells it and It’s like a sucker punch in his gut 

 

He’s just turned the corner of the mayoral headquarters when the perfume wafts through his senses. 

 

Slightly floral with a hint of vanilla, it smells just like Felicity. 

 

And just like that, he’s reminded of mornings watching her get ready. The perfume strong in the wake of the initial sprays of the day. Of nights before heading out for drinks with Dig, or times when they just got ready to spend a nice night together. 

 

He drowns in the memories for who knows how long, only shaken free by his sister’s hand on his arm. 

 

She shoots him a worried glance and he smiles, hoping to placate her for the moment, still unable to fully shake the feeling of loss from his chest. 

 

The numbness breaks a little further, just another chip at the feeling of cold surrounding him.

 

* * *

 

  1. _**Sight**_



 

He isn’t quite sure what hits him the hardest.

 

The sight of her on TV shatters him in two entirely different ways.

 

At first, it’s because she’s back in town and he hadn’t even  _ known _ about it. 

 

How long? How had she managed to get back to work at Palmer Tech without him at least hearing about it?

 

But then, the real kick in the head is the sight of her, on her feet. Standing up.

 

She’s  _ walking _ and the sight of it steals his breath away.

 

When he had first promised her that he would find a way to make her walk again, he had been honest, really. But at that point, he hadn’t known any of the details. Not the how, or the when or anything, really. 

 

When Curtis had given them the news at their engagement party, it had been one of the happiest moments of his life. 

 

It wasn’t that Felicity being in a wheelchair changed anything for him. He loved her with every ounce of his being. That wasn’t a question. 

 

But he knew how difficult it was for her, despite how strong she was - and she had every bit of strength that he had relayed to the team over and over again. 

 

But she still dreamed, and he knew it. 

 

The look in her eyes as she told him she would walk down the aisle towards him… 

 

It was the last real moment of happiness he could remember before Darhk dropped the world down upon him.

 

Seeing her now, standing behind the podium at Palmer Tech, it’s the first real moment of happiness he’s felt since she left. 

 

He thinks he sees a bit of happiness on her own face too.

 

For the first time, the thought of their separation doesn’t strangle him.

 

* * *

 

  1. _**Touch**_



 

A week or so later, Felicity returns to the team.

 

One day she isn’t there and the next, she’s seated at her computers, no wheelchair in sight. The sight of her there is jarring on so many levels. 

 

But he sucks it up and clenches the fists at his sides that ache to touch her.

 

There’s no one else in the room, and he can tell when she realizes she’s no longer alone. The curve of her back straightens, her shoulders tighten and she pauses for a few beats before turning around to meet his eye. 

 

The air is thick and heavy, and Oliver feels like he can’t breathe. 

 

The sight of her, actually there in person… well, he’s had too many nightmares of such a thing never happening again. 

 

He can feel his heart pound under his rib cage and he smiles hesitantly, trying to judge the situation. He hates not knowing how to act around her. 

 

She stares back silently, and he wonders if she’s just as nervous as he.

 

“Hi,” he finally breathes into the silence of the room. 

 

She bites her lip, a soft, “Hey,” leaving her lips. 

 

The sound of her voice sets off an entirely new set of bells in his head.

 

“It’s good to see you, Felicity,” he intones, pausing before adding, “You’re… you’re walking.”

 

She nods, a small smile coming to her face. “I am. It’s a miracle and all sorts of amazing, huh? I probably should’ve told you...” 

 

His hand is up to stop her before she can say another word.

 

“No, no. You don’t owe me anything, Felicity.”

 

Her head nods in agreement. “Still, it probably would’ve been nicer to find out from me than a press conference.”

 

“Felicity, just seeing you walking is enough, no - it’s everything to me. That’s all that matters.”

 

_ You’re all that matters. _

 

* * *

 

They continue on in a similar sort of fashion.

 

Their communication is stunted, a shadow of what it used to be. 

 

They make pleasantries and work together in the fight against Darhk and the ghosts, but they never speak of what’s between them. 

 

What  _ used _ to be between them.

 

Felicity steers them in all of the right directions and he makes all of the right hits. 

 

But the loft is still empty, Felicity having found a place to stay with Laurel and Thea. 

 

He offered to move out of the loft, but apparently the memories it holds are too much for her as well. 

 

He doesn’t blame her. The only reason he hasn’t moved out himself are the last strings of hope that his heart is holding on to.

 

And besides, he deserves to live with that pain.

 

* * *

 

The first time he touches her in months is a random Tuesday night. 

 

He and Diggle have just returned to the lair, a little more beaten up than usual, and Felicity stands up quickly to greet the team.

 

He sees the wobble in her left leg before she even realizes it, and he’s moving before he can remind himself that maybe it’s no longer his place to do so. 

 

He reaches out to steady her, and her hand falls on his arm reflexively. 

 

The touch sends shivers down his back, her own mouth letting out a soft gasp as they come together again for the first time. 

 

He shoots her a small, strained smile before letting go of her. 

 

He doesn’t want her to see the look in his eyes, because he knows he’s doing a poor job of hiding anything. The want sits heavy in his gut, his limbs aching to pull her closer. 

 

She sits down, a quiet thank you on her lips and they go on, ships passing in the night.

 

* * *

 

  1. _**Taste**_



 

It’s the taste of her lips that brings him back to himself.

 

The moment his lip envelopes her own, the final layer of ice around his heart breaks.

 

It’s been a whole other month since that moment in the lair and everything had changed.

 

After an accident in the field had put Oliver on death’s door again, Felicity had started to reach out to him again. 

 

It was small things. A quiet conversation when they were alone, or a laugh that she couldn’t contain. 

 

Every moment was a rebirth and a subsequent death. The fear of hoping too much and her withdrawing from him again weighed heavily upon him.

 

Finally, they had talked about everything between them. 

 

Oliver professed how badly he had wanted to tell her, but how terrified he was of losing his son after just finding him.

 

The anger at his mom had returned with it, and Felicity had listened patiently, finally allowing him to tell his side of the story. 

 

But in the end, it’s his acceptance that he was in the wrong, and her knowledge that they could overcome this, her  _ desire _ to overcome this, was larger than her fear of trusting him again and having her heart broken once more. 

 

She wants to go slow. 

 

Learn how to trust him again. 

 

He can’t blame her, but it’s hard on him. 

 

While it had taken them years to get together, his love for her had been overwhelming and such a large part of his life… the idea of having her so close but nowhere near close enough, ate at him. 

 

But he was resolute and followed the silent rules they had placed between them.

 

It was more frequent conversations and more time spent together. 

 

It was coming to the lair in the evening to the sight of her smiling at him at her computers. Spilling solutions to problems he had not even known of.

 

It was watching her command the board at Palmer Tech, making real strides at turning the company around, and hearing all about it from her - not a television.

 

It was her asking about his own day, and wanting to see pictures of William. 

 

It was learning to love her all over again. 

 

And when he kisses her for the first time, it’s like coming back to life. 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter - olivermulder  
> tumblr - queenmerlyn


End file.
